


Rain

by rocksalt_rifle (trismegistus)



Series: Fullmetal Alchemist/Supernatural Mashup [46]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, M/M, Multi, Smut, threesome fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/rocksalt_rifle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Make-up sex. Roy/Ed/Winry threesome, set in my SPN/FMA AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

Al found his brother in the kitchen, or more accurately in the walk-in cooler. It was an ancient old thing, Al had no earthly idea how it was still chugging along, but he had learned very early on to just not question why the tech in this place still worked, just to accept it. “What are you doing in there?” he asked, knowing the true answer already. “Winry’s been looking for you for an hour, she said -“

Ed had his hands on his hips. “We need more food,” he said, as if he was studying the stores intently and not actually hiding like a scared rabbit. “I’ve been meaning a shopping trip anyway, the nearest grocer’s a good hour drive, the pantry’s pretty stocked but we’re low on perishables-“

He babbled when he was nervous, it was his biggest tell. That, and the fact that he had bolted the second he heard the door, gone from the library in an instant. This place wasn’t THAT big (although it was the biggest place they’d lived in for any considerable amount of time since they were children), but Ed, he could squirrel himself away with the best of them. “Tell me you have not been hiding in the cooler since he got here.”

It was easy to catch the startled look in his eye, even when he thought he hid it well. “I am not hiding from anything.”

"Bullshit you’re not, you want me to believe that you’re not scared of Mustang? Go fucking talk to him, Ed."

And Ed froze, his face a completely blank slate. 

There had been a time, years ago, where they had entertained the thought that they could carry relationships, that even with the blood and death that surrounded them, even with the Apocalypse (capital A!) bearing down that they could have this single small measure of normalcy. It was all a lie, Al carried that pain as well as Ed did - but he also carried that pain better. Ed had broken with those support struts kicked in, broken in a way that Al wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to mend on his own.

"I don’t want to talk to him," he said, and even if he were blind Al would hear the truth in his voice.

"Fine," he drummed his fingers on the outside of the cooler. "Winry thinks we ought to bring Rian in too, I don’t think that’s the best idea though. Especially if Crowley can track him the last thing we want him is to find this treasure trove." He tilted his head. "I’ll read Mustang in on what’s going on, if you want to play the housewife."

When the term didn’t even get a rise out of Ed, that’s the point that Al knew his brother was a lost cause. “I’ll do the shopping, then,” he said softly, and Al slammed his open hand into the wall outside the cooler and walked away.

* * *

 

It was stupid. Ed knew it was stupid in his heart, knew he was being silly, but he slunk around the headquarters like he was in enemy territory. Al was pissed at him, but that was a fairly standard state, he was used to Al being pissed at him anyway, and he usually deserved it. He didn’t know what was going on with Winry, they had reached some sort of understanding, he thought - but when he accidentally encountered her in the gun range she gave him a flat look and turned her back on him.

He was a coward, he knew that to. He could spend the days locked up in the bunk room he had claimed as his own, pacing out the steps like it was a cell while they waited, but what was the use? They were stuck here, stuck in this constant state of waiting, waiting on the translations, just … waiting. He wasn’t used to this unsettled feeling, this sense of uncertainty, both with himself and with what was going on. After all the years of this, these grand stakes games with the world at stake, he thought he would be used to this but he wasn’t, and he wasn’t the man that he used to be.

Ed really didn’t have a right to be afraid like this. They hadn’t fought, really … Ed had walked out of Roy’s life for his own good. The stakes had gotten too high, too personal - they’d just lost Bobby, for fuck’s sake, he couldn’t stand losing Roy too - he didn’t have the time to think or pass muster on what took place or how it affected Roy. Then there was the endgame and Purgatory, and, well.

Now Roy was here. And how was Ed supposed to face him? Sorry I ran out of your life like that, made it a living hell, let you shack up with some she-beast from Hades?

(Ed hadn’t asked what happened with that. The brief glimpse of Roy’s face and he had known. Oh, Roy-)

He was the worst sort of person. He’d let everyone down - if he started lining people up the queue would start with Al and quite possibly cross into the next state. Ed sat on the floor in the dust and the cobwebs they had never quite gotten around to cleaning out of the unused locker room and wished desperately for enough whiskey to wash the slate clean.

There was a long creaking sound from deeper in, the locker room spilled directly into the showers. They were old military showers, no dividers, just giant old tarnished shower heads aimed out from the ceiling, one after another, easily a dozen or more lining both ends. Al had never minded the lack of privacy the showers had, he was comfortable around Ed, although they rarely showered together anyway. Winry, in her weeks here, had made it a point to come locate them both and hiss that the shower area was out-of-bounds for the next hour or two while she bathed, and neither of them were going to risk her wrath.

Ed lifted his head as he heard the water rushing through the pipes to start the spray. He had secluded himself, nestled back in the corner and the darkness, too preoccupied with his own self-loathing to even notice the passage of another person. He got to his feet, wiping dirt off his jeans, and looked down the divider toward the showers.

There was already steam in the air, fogging the glass that ran along the line of sinks. He couldn’t quite see the occupant, and he was about to turn and flee in the case of it being Winry, when he noticed the shock of familiar, shaggy dark hair. His throat constricted.

Roy.

If he left now, the door would bang on the way out, the movement would draw attention - he was willing to risk Winry’s wrath, she wouldn’t’ve known who it was, too many guys now to keep track of - and yet his heart in his throat, he couldn’t bear to move. 

The steam was clearing out now, somewhat - it had found the proper vents and was moving out quickly, and Roy was standing his his head bowed under the water. He wasn’t moving, stock-still, his profile turned away from Ed and for a single heart-stopping moment Ed thought he knew. He swallowed, this strange burning in his throat, like the air tasted acrid, like smoke and flames - and held perfectly still.

Roy did not turn toward him. He lifted his head against the spray, the water running through his dark hair, the bright unforgiving light reflecting just so against some of the lighter patches. Gray, Ed realized blithely. Had he been going gray the last time Ed saw him? It hadn’t been THAT long ago, Roy with that same weary look in his eye, in need of a good shave but smiling, content, back to the kitchen counter and watching Ed drinking coffee at his kitchen table.

Watching him, something in Ed - softened. The fear, the self-loathing, he wasn’t sure which emotion started draining away but it was relief as he looked at Mustang, looked at the man he knew and loved so much and loved even still - vulnerable and unaware of his presence. 

He moved suddenly, pale skin against the tile and punched the wall beside the pipes. The sound jolted Ed, made him jerk physically, and before he could recover Roy’s words, echoed on naked tile and meant for him alone, the words weren’t meant to reach Ed’s ears and yet they did anyway.

"Dammit, Ed-"

Ed couldn’t take it, couldn’t bear it, he didn’t care if Mustang spotted the sudden movement - he bolted. The door to the locker room banged off its hinges like a shot, and he was long gone as Roy reacted to the noise, spinning on his heel and glaring into the dimly lit locker room.

* * *

 

Al and Winry stood side by side in the great kitchen. Ed’s domain, Al realized it now but he had never gotten used to that thought, that fact - Ed wasn’t a cook, Ed wasn’t domestic, Ed was warm-beer and ‘does this burger smell funny to you’ and gas station pizza. This was a new world they were in now, and Al still hadn’t grown accustomed to it. Winry was peeling a potato, intent on making a meal - “chicken and potatoes,” Winry said knowledgeably, and Al hoped she knew what she was doing.

Winry’s movements slowed, ceased altogether. “What’s wrong with Ed,” she asked quietly, and Al wished she had asked any other question besides. 

"I don’t know," Al said, and looked down at the vegetable he was chopping, trying to be helpful. "He wasn’t, he wasn’t like this about bringing you here. Was he?" Al had been sick, on and off, when that occurred, that was part of the reason she was here in the first place. Now she was just involved, as they both knew she’d become, but it was hard to feel guilty with another trustworthy ally at your back, when you had so few already.

She shook her head, looked at the potato. “He’s always been a little weird,” she said, and scraped the peeler along the skin a moment. “But - he’s acting like a hormonal teenager, I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Al understood his brother possibly better than anyone on this planet - or off it, come to think of it. He had always been able to think around his brother, predict his movements - it came from a lifetime of watching him, emulating him, growing up wanting to BE him - when had that changed, so much so that a single man could disrupt everything about him? “He’s in love,” he said softly, his attention on the knife and the slow, precise cuts he was making. “He’s so very much in love with Roy, and he hurt him, and now -“

And now he was punishing himself for that sin of loving too much and too deeply. Ed was fantastic at self-loathing, he would hold a gold medal in the Olympic sport of it; what was worse was it wouldn’t change anything. He did what he did because he loved people so much, he loved his family and would protect them, HAD protected them with his life. And that family, it had always been Al, centered purely on Al and yet now it had expanded. Winry was that family. Roy was that family. Bobby had been, Cas was - hell at this point Ed had probably adopted Rian in as well and not told him. So many years on the road, so many weeks and months of it just being Ed and Al, dirty cheap motel rooms, long days on the road, nights spent on the side of it, sitting on the trunk of the car and staring at the night sky full of stars and now - 

He remembered the first time that he realized his brother had been in love, in actual, honest-to-god love and not just blissed out from a great one-nighter. He had been preoccupied himself at the time, his thoughts consumed with Mei, but Ed had been so relaxed, so open and HAPPY. It was so unusual, and so refreshing to see him with a casual grin on his face, smiling all the time in all the ways he hadn’t in the year before he had… well, died.

"And now he doesn’t know how to fix things," he said quietly. He thought of Mei again, tearful rage on her face as she slapped him, left and didn’t look back - where was she now? Hopefully back in China, away from the Leviathans, away from all these Gates, Gates of Heaven and Hell and Truth, whatever the hell that meant. His heart ached for a moment but he shoved it down, ignored it. "Doesn’t know if they can be fixed."

Winry had grown quiet again, placing the peeler on the table. He chanced a glance at her and Winry’s expression was unreadable. “I know he loves Roy,” she said, and her voice betrayed her in ways her expression didn’t. “The question is, did he ever love me?”

"Of course," Al started to say and Winry’s head shot up and she glared at him. He sighed again, and put down the butcher knife. "Winry, he did it to keep you safe."

"Do you think knowing that makes me feel any better?" She leaned back against the counter. "I’m just as much a hunter as you boys are, to be cut out like that, just abandoned. He didn’t even bother to change his phone number, he just stopped answering his fucking phone, and, and-" she took a deep staggering breath, and her jaw tightened. "Just cut me out of his life completely."

"You do know that his going to Purgatory was not an entirely metaphorical thing?"

She gave him a scalding look. “I’m not a complete idiot, thank you. This was, god this was weeks before that. He could have said something, anything - Christ, we’re hunters, I know that every phone call could be the last. It could be something as stupid as falling down a staircase even, but he just cut me out, Al. Just stopped returning my calls, stopped talking to me, what the fuck was I supposed to think?” 

"He did the same thing to Mustang." Alphonse scraped the vegetables he had chopped into a dish, because it gave him something else to do with his hands. He couldn’t, this was a conversation Ed was supposed to be having, not him. Why did Ed always leave the clean-up to him? (Because he was better at it, because Ed trusted him in a way he didn’t even trust himself.)

"If you think that’s supposed to make me feel BETTER-"

"No, but, Winry." Al heaved a great defeated sigh. "You love him, or at least you say you do, you KNOW what he’s like. He’s an idiot, a complete fucking idiot about these things. He always has been."

"Great big manchild," Winry said, with the ghost of a smile on her face. She sighed too, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. "Is it that obvious that I still love him?"

Al didn’t look at her and yet couldn’t keep the self-deprecating smile off his face. “Would you have come if you didn’t?”

"Hey, I like you too," Winry nudged him with her elbow and Al laughed. "Surprised you haven’t called the others, seems like we’re mustering the troops for a final showdown."

"Do YOU know where they went?" he asked, and Winry tapped her mouth with one finger. "Well, Mei. I bet I could get Sheska on Kaoru’s trail fairly easily, her path of destruction is rivaled only by Ed’s."

Al laughed, somehow masked the squeeze of pain in his heart at the thought of Mei. “Maybe that would be a good idea,” he murmured.

"Maybe," she said, and bumped him with her arm again.

* * *

 

The entire complex wasn’t THAT big, it was an armored bunker hidden underground with two layers so far that they’d explored - Al found Roy storming up the hallway, soaking wet and wrapped in a large, white towel. “Uh,” Al said, as Roy blew past him, murder in his eyes. “Dinner soon?” he called, and Roy disappeared around the corner, presumably headed toward his room.

That was odd, there was a locker room to change in. Maybe he’d forgotten clean clothes. Al shrugged, and headed down the hall toward the wine cellar he had wisely forgotten to tell Ed he had discovered. They were going to need SOMETHING with dinner, that was for sure….

* * *

 

Ed was sitting on the edge of his bed, head bowed and elbows on his knees. He had run the entire way back - wasn’t far, but he hadn’t run anyone down either - and was now simply focusing on not trembling, not panicking - he hadn’t said two words to Roy since he arrived, why was Roy MAD-

His door slammed open, and Ed jumped a foot in the air. Al knocked, he knew how special it was to have your own space, your own bedroom - it was the first time in Ed’s entire LIFE he had his own personal space - and Roy stood in the doorway, dripping wet, towel cinched around his waist and fire in his eyes.

And Ed was on his feet, this was not how he anticipated having this conversation, not that he had envisioned it thus far, and Roy slammed the door behind him, trapping the two of them in Ed’s suddenly-shrinking, tiny bedroom. “What,” Roy’s voice was thick, raw-sounding in a way Ed recognized from hoarse laughter after a rough hunt - “What the fuck is WRONG WITH YOU?”

His voice exploded, amplified in the small room and for a split-second Ed winced, drew in on himself, his terror at being yelled at like that buoyed by memories best forgotten - and then his own anger rose and he had his fists clamped at his sides, back straight and Ed remembered who he was. “Don’t you come in here and yell at me,” he growled. “Don’t you fucking dare-“

Roy’s face was all fury, nothing controlled. Ed had never seen him this angry, had barely ever seen him angry. Roy was a mask of control, controlled happiness, controlled anger, controlled grief - he let that mask slip sometimes, lying next to Ed, arm thrown over Ed’s chest possessive and warm - but so rarely raw, naked emotion. “Don’t YOU fucking dare,” he roared. “I’ve been - ten months, twelve, fourteen - I don’t even know how long mourning you, you fucking little shit you thought you could just dump me off the side of the road like a piece of rubbish?” 

"Dump YOU, I did it to-"

"To what, keep me safe? Keep us both safe? Don’t think I didn’t talk to Winry, I know you did the same thing to her, that’s bullshit-"

"Don’t you dare talk to me like that!" Ed shouted. "Do you have any idea what the fuck I put on the LINE-"

"You don’t have a monopoly on fighting for your FAMILY, EDWARD."

Ed froze, his entire body locked up at his full name. No-one called him that, no-one except that shit of a father but he had buried that, buried it under YEARS of hatred. “DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

They were both breathing hard, caught in the moment, the syllables of Ed’s shout still ringing in his own ears. “Don’t call me that,” he repeated, this time not a shout, but no less agitated. “Please.”

Roy’s glare - softened, somewhat, and then he glanced away. “You could have said,” his voice was still raw, “You could have said anything, Ed, why - what were you going to do if it all fell like a house of cards-?”

"It did make a proper mess," Edward said sardonically. "We were being watched, we were always watched, Roy, Roy they killed Bobby-" the words choked in his throat, he swallowed hard, fought the burning in his eyes again. "They killed Bobby, it would have been nothing to them to kill you too."

He could deal with his own death - he could make peace with dying for the sake of mission, dying for Al, dying for his FAMILY - but he couldn’t stand, couldn’t live with himself if one more person died for him. Not another one. Never again. “I couldn’t,” Ed said, and it was all he could say.

Roy looked at him straight, held his gaze. “I can take care of myself,” he said, the hardness in his voice. “I’ve done it before you came around again, and I’ll do it after you’re gone, I don’t need your protection.”

The words, punctuated by the unsaid. Ed looked away, looked at the mess of his bed and willed the burning in his eyes back. “Doin’ a right shit job of it,” he whispered, thinking on it. Roy, drunk at his door, worse than he’d seen him his entire life.

Roy’s lip curled, and then he caught himself. Ed lifted his head and glared, straight at him. He had faced down so many things in his life, the fantastical and the demonic, he had an angel, and a prophet on speed-dial for fuck’s sake, he could face this. “You have no right,” Roy said. And Ed did not drop his gaze.

"If you’re so fucked off about it, why’re you here?" there was a sneer in his voice he couldn’t disguise. "Why did you even bother to come, you knew I’d be here, close -" he looked around his small room, HIS room, and threw open his arms. "Close fucking quarters, why are you HERE?"

There was a long moment of silence while Roy held his eye, water running down his face from where his hair was sopping. “I thought,” Mustang said very carefully. “That would be obvious.”

And through everything, Ed’s heavy heart gave a little flutter of hope.

* * *

 

Roy Mustang had never been this angry at anyone still living in his entire life. It was unfathomable to him, how much in this moment he wanted to cross this room, cross the bed, grab Ed by his shoulders and punch him, knock him on his ass and hopefully knock sense straight into his thick, stubborn skull. Ed seemed to sense that in his anger, the way Roy’s fist was held tight at his side - the other clinging to the towel he seemed to forget was slung about his waist. Ed had widened his stance, barely perceptible but to those who were looking for it, had cocked his head back, raised his jaw, seemed to be inviting the blow.

He thinks he deserves it. (He does.) He wants Roy to hit him, all their yelling at the thing that Ed understands the most is the physical, he can deal with the physical pain, he can understand violence but his own emotions he was blind to. Roy growled to himself, tried to fight through the blinding anger, and forced his hand to relax.

It took a lot longer to lose count of the days than he thought it would. At first, no contact, no returned calls - odd, but not entirely unusual. When Ed got wrapped up in a hunt it became his first priority, and if Roy wasn’t leaving voicemails with priority wording, he would get back to them in time. 

Days became weeks. Weeks, a month. He called Winry, late one Thursday evening at a bar drunk off his ass, have you heard from Ed? He won’t, he’s not answering my calls-

Only to find he had been unceremoniously dumped.

After everything, after all they had been through, the fights and the passion and the hunts and not a word to him about why. Why, why, WHY. That was the thing that had haunted him the most, WHY. Trying to get into Ed’s unfathomable head, trying to wrap his mind around it, analyzing and going over their lost conversation, their last night together, trying to find the tells, anything. In a fit of black despair he tried Al, only to be told that Ed was Gone. “Purgatory, I think.” Al’s voice had that desperate shake in it that Roy knew all to well. “I don’t know.”

He could be dead.

Roy knew, of course he knew, he’d been witness to the nightmares, held him through the worst ones - he’d spoken with an angel in a dirty trenchcoat who sat in his living room and looked confused at the mug of coffee Roy would give him when he visited - Ed had died, before. Before he had come to Roy, before they begun this thing, whatever it was that they had. But he was alive now, and the particulars didn’t matter, because he was ALIVE.

The thoughts still kept him up at night. Was he alive or dead? Where was he? Why wasn’t Cas doing anything, was he with Ed? Nightmares, torment, the bottle to help him sleep and soon enough, to help him feel normal again.

And then the man had the random gall to present himself on Roy’s doorstep like nothing had happened and open the conversation with “Well, you look like shit.”

Roy had HATED him, hated his entire being, loathed that blond hair, those gold eyes, that cocky grin that would fade quickly into a frown, the lines embedded in his forehead. He’d grown his hair, hadn’t cut it, the ponytail was small and spiky and his bangs fell into his eyes. He looked the way Roy remembered him, and it hurt, and he fucking HATED him for it.

And yet here he was. Because he hated Ed so much he was willing to put his neck on the line for the Elrics yet again. What kind of fool was he, he hated Ed, he loathed him, and hellfire damn him, he loved him still.

Wolf-gold eyes were still on him, watching his every move warily. Roy was broadcasting his thoughts acros his face openly, he was too tired and too pissed to care anymore. His face relaxed, he sighed, and his shoulders dropped. He wasn’t going to hit Ed, that was all Ed wanted was to confirm that he was a bad person, that he deserved to get hit. If Roy had his way he would find whatever pit his bastard of a father was burning in and roust him from it to enact his own torments - he had never remembered Ed as a child submitting to a punishment, EXPECTING to be hit.

Ed may be stupid as hell, incompetent as fuckall when it came to emotions and how to deal with him, but Roy loved him and he hated this, all of this, everything that had happened. 

"You are a fucking moron," he sighed, and Ed’s body tightened yet again, jaw jutted upward, and Roy shook his head, spraying water about. "And I’m a fucking moron for still being in love with you."

He jerked like it was a physical thing, like Roy had actually struck him. “For God’s sake,” Roy said, and crossed the room. He grabbed Ed’s hand and yanked him forward, staring straight into his eyes, really far, far too close. “Do you mean to stand there and act like you don’t? Are you going to stand there and lie to my face about the fact that you love me, because I’m pretty damn sure I heard you say just as much not too long ago.”

Ed’s eyes, defiant, on his. “Let me go, Roy.”

"Do you love me?"

"I said, LET ME GO!"

He yanked his arm and Roy clung on, wouldn’t let him go. “If you don’t, if you feel like you need to lie to my face do it now. Tell me now. I’ll leave. I will walk out that door and I won’t come back and we can be done for real, forever. But you have to tell me, I want to hear you say you don’t love me.”

Ed’s free hand on his chest, trying to shove him, and it was awkward, Ed was stronger but Roy had him at a disadvantage. He leaned in as Ed shoved again and pulled him close. He really could break this hold if he wanted to, if he wanted to he could have Roy facedown on the bed, Ed had always been the better scrapper. He didn’t want to.

"You are such a fucking - bastard," Ed gritted out, his eyes narrowed. "I hate you so fucking much."

"Then we do agree on one thing," Roy hissed right back, and Ed’s eyes shot open, startled. He wanted Roy to hate him, but when Roy admitted to as much, he was hurt. Well. "So which is it going to be, Elric? I don’t have all night."

* * *

 

The blood was pounding in his skull, his pulse pounding in places it shouldn’t be, Roy was far, far too fucking close. Ed’s mouth was too dry, he couldn’t wet his lips, not with Roy’s face right there - 

And the months of it, the weeks and the days and the hours alone, it had been so long, SO LONG he couldn’t endure it any further. The hand on his chest slipped up to Roy’s neck, and he yanked Roy to him, closer still, and kissed him.

* * *

 

They were met in the locker room by Winry, coming the opposite direction out of the showers. “So it was YOU,” she said, her eyes on Roy and not seeing Ed trailing him for a heartbeat. “Left the goddamned showers on, I could hear it in the library-” and her voice trailed off, Roy’s free hand was around Ed’s wrist. Her eyes flicked between them, startled a second, and then hard. 

"Winry," Ed said, his voice plaintive. He had enough, he felt as though his emotions had been very thoroughly steamrollered into submission for the day. Roy stopped walking, released his wrist, and Winry took a step back.

"So glad to see you’ve worked it out," she said, her voice carefully neutral, her face blank. "Suppose it will make things a little easier around here for all of us, then-" a crack at the end of her sentence, and Ed knew that sound, knew that feeling all too well. 

"Winry," he said again, and reached for her.

She took another step back, straight into the row of lockers, her shoulders hitting the faded green metal with a solid noise. “Go on,” she said, her eyes moving between Ed and Roy. “I’m not - I won’t, not anymore, I’m-“

Ed dropped to his knees a pace in front of her, hands on the top of his knees. He bent his head a bit, the weight of all this - he was so tired, so exhausted. This was all too much - how had he ever been able to endure it before?

(How could he not?)

"I’m sorry," Ed said softly, his voice an echo in hard tile-and-metal world. "I’m so sorry, Winry - I’m sorry for everything, I don’t think I’ve ever properly apologized to you for all the shit I’ve put you through, you don’t deserve any of it. I don’t deserve YOU, and I’m sorry."

Winry had grown silent, her eyes on Ed, her hands gripping the edges of the row of lockers like it was a lifeline. “Ed, what are you,” her voice was on the edge of panic. “Don’t apologize, please don’t, I’ve, I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t, I can’t.”

Ed still didn’t lift his head. “If I had to choose between you two, I wouldn’t be able to. I couldn’t, that’s why, you both-” he closed his eyes. “I’m a dumbass, I know I am, but I really thought I was doing the right thing.”

Roy touched his shoulder, and Ed lifted his head to look up at Winry. “I would never have had the courage to even try to make this work,” he said. “If you hadn’t - I don’t know where I’d be.” Two bright streams of tears down her face - she didn’t wear makeup, Ed had only seen it on her a few times and at the moment it was a small blessing - and he smiled, brokenly. 

"I understand that you don’t want to try again," he said. "You’d probably end up getting hurt again - either by me being a dumbass, or simply because you’re close to me." He looked down again, looked back at Roy. "I can’t decide if I honestly want you both to walk away now, or if I should just beg, on me knees."

"You’re already on your knees, y-you dumbass," Winry scrubbed her palm across her face. "You big, fucking dumbass, I ought to hit you in the head with a goddamned fucking HAMMER-"

"Please don’t," Roy said. "I’ve made up with him, at least."

Winry’s accusing glare shot from Ed to Roy in a heartbeat. “And you!” she said, her eyes narrowed suddenly. “You let me, all this time you left me alone, what about us, huh?”

Roy blinked. “We, I thought we had-“

"You arse," she said thickly. "I knew you didn’t like me near as much as Ed, I was content with that, but I didn’t expect you to drop me like a hot knife the moment Ed dropped out of the picture." Ed blinked, looked back at Roy, and edged slightly backwards on his knees to get out of range. 

"I - Winry, I was in the midst of an existential crisis, I’m sure it wasn’t the best time-"

"Bullshit it wasn’t the best fucking time-"

Ed coughed meekly into his hand, and Winry’s gaze, now turned to ire, bounced back as if drawn by a magnet. “Do you think we’re done? You better not think you’re forgiven, Elric, that it’s as easy as making me cry, if you think making me CRY over you is the solution-“

Both his hands in the air. “God, Winry, no, I-“

"There is going to be a lot of cunnilingus in your future, do you understand?"

Ed said weakly, “what?”

Roy snorted, and she looked at him. “You too, Mustang. If you seriously want to try this shit again, I expect loads of it-“

She jumped, physically, when Ed touched her thigh. He could move quickly on the tile, and very quietly. He rubbed the pad of his thumb into her jeans and looked up at her. “Starting now?” he asked innocently.

Winry gaped at him, looked up at Roy, who was still damp and still holding that towel. He raised an eyebrow to her. “Did you really think we were going to the showers for any other reason?” he asked rhetorically, and Ed curled his hand around her leg, stroking his fingers lightly over the fabric.

"But," Winry was clearly striving to think up a good reason, any reason, and her reserves were failing fast. Ed’s hand had moved up her leg, staying carefully on the outside until given indication otherwise, stroking the curve of her hip. "But, dinner," she said weakly.

Ed glanced back at Roy, cocked an eyebrow, and caught the flicker of amusement on his face. It was amazing, how quickly everything fit back together, their broken, jagged pieces complimenting the other nicely. “Dinner will be there in an hour,” he said softly, and Winry’s hand found his hair, stroked it a moment before settling on his head. She was looking at Roy, though, thoughtful.

"Maybe more than an hour," Roy mused.

Winry said, softly - “I do think I will regret this, one day.”

* * *

 

The towel was left in a damp puddle on the tile floor as Roy walked along the shower room. The heat had drifted out, the showers off now, and he started flipping a few of them on, to build up the steam. He heard Winry giggle, loudly, and have it cut-off mid-chuckle. He looked back down the shower and thought, hard.

He loved Ed, there was no doubt about that. Winry, thought …. she was right, he did not have those same feelings for. He did not dislike her, he enjoyed her company immensely, but Ed did. Ed loved her, it was clear the way that he dropped to his KNEES for her, right there and then. Roy he reserved the shouting for.

A discussion for another day - he had no doubts at all in his mind that Ed meant every word he said. Whether or not he understood them in their entirety was another matter. Roy ducked his head under a showerhead, let the warm water sluice through his damp hair, and exhaled, shaking the water from his head and going back up the way he came.

Winry was seated on the changing bench, her jeans in a pile on the floor with her shoes. Ed had spread her legs and was murmuring into them, his mouth on the inside of her thigh. Her panties - Roy was amused at the stripes, and Winry glanced up and caught him looking. Then her gaze drifted downward, over his wet flesh and down further south. 

Roy was proud of his physique - not nearly as impressive as Ed’s, but no-one’s would ever be, Ed was freak of nature in more ways than one - but he was in excellent shape for a man his age. 

There were other things to be proud of, too.

Winry gestured him in, the other hand still propped back on the bench. Ed lifted his head, glanced to Roy and paused. Winry snorted in amusement. “Figures,” she said. “I’m still in my panties, you get distracted by a cock.”

"Oi," Ed said, and Winry slipped her hand down between her thighs, pulling aside the fabric of her panties and raising an eyebrow. Ed nestled his face between her legs, inhaling her and Winry almost moaned as his tongue made contact. God, it really had been so long-

Roy stopped beside her and Winry settled his hand on her thigh. “You’re sure that you are okay with this?” Roy’s voice belied his erection, and she touched it with two fingers, remembering the taste of him in that moment. 

"I think we’re past talking, Roy," she said. Her eyes trailed up his form, until her gaze met his. "We will talk, though. Just … just not right now, okay?"

"I think I can handle that," he breathed, as she ran her thumb up the bottom of his cock. She smiled for him, and then inhaled quickly, and Ed lifted his head, one hand wrapped around her leg to hold her still. He had a very particular, and familiar grin on his face. "Oh hush," Roy said, his eyes on Winry. 

"I didn’t even say anything," Ed said, and Winry grabbed him by his bangs. "Don’t stop," she hissed at him and Ed obediently buried his face between her legs again.

* * *

 

It had been VERY long. 

Winry sprawled on the bench, breathing very hard, Roy’s cock slipping out of her mouth as she gasped for air. Ed licked his fingers clean and grinned again, that cocky grin of his that made her want to gouge his eyes out, god he was a smug bastard. Her legs felt like jelly.

"Still got it," Ed said smugly, as Roy smoothed back Winry’s bangs. She looked at him with a slightly glazed expression, didn’t turn her head as he kissed her, gentle and loving. It really had been far too long - wasn’t like she didn’t have other offers, she had worked in a bar for Christ’s sake, but memories of this, this - once she’d had this how could anyone else-? Roy lifted his head and smiled at the desperate sound Winry made, and then glanced down at her half-dressed form. 

Ed slipped her sopping panties off, leaving them on the floor beside her jeans. “Should have thought to bring more clothes,” he said, sitting back on his ass on the floor and pulling off his boots.

"Hindsight," Roy said, urging Winry to a more upright position. He slung his leg over the bench and settled in behind her, slowly removing the layers she was wearing while she was still pliant. "Besides, I am certain it will not be the first time you’ve bolted naked from the shower to the bedroom."

"I like to have some decency," Ed huffed.

"I bet if I asked your brother this instant, he would tell me he’s caught you wandering naked."

Ed’s ears had flushed red. “Don’t you dare.”

"Mm." Roy nuzzled Winry’s ear and she sighed, her eyes clearing. "I would say I’m a little too invested to wander off at the moment, anyway." Winry’s gaze had moved to Ed, who had wriggled out of his jeans and boxers both, and she was staring at him very hungrily. 

"God, Ed," Winry said, and he paused, his shirt half off his shoulder and utterly ridiculous in his indecency. "You’ve ruined me for other guys, you know that, right?"

It was something she had never meant to even say out loud, it had tumbled out in completely inappropriate fashion. She was already flushed, so the blush didn’t mean anything more, and Ed looked - smug, at the revelation. “Really?” he said, and Roy groaned.

"You did have to go and tell him something like that," he murmured into her ear, and she couldn’t help but giggle. It was just, so - she hadn’t expected, she’d been here longer than Roy, and Ed had not even attempted to make amends. She was beginning to realize that he was simply too scared of her rejection to attempt anything else again. "He’s going to be insufferable now, you do realize."

"He can be as insufferable as he likes if it means I get his cock in me at some point," she said airily, and actually felt Roy’s muscles tense behind her. She leaned back against him, settled, feeling the press of his cock against her lower back and how warm and familiar that was. "You too," she said. "But I imagine you want to fuck him first."

Ed got to his feet, and they both got to admire him - golden in the dim light, his ratty little ponytail spiked out from his neck, fully erect - and Winry gave a little wriggle and moan of delight just looking at him. She had dreamed this, she was asleep in her bed and was going to have to change the sheets when she woke up, there was no way -

Roy brushed his fingers down her side, swooped them up again to cup her breast. He was good with women, better than Ed - although Ed could make her come so much better from tongue and fingers alone, his attention on her was absolutely devastating - but Roy was not looking down at her, he was staring at Ed, and Ed was staring right back. “Oh, go on,” Winry said. “I haven’t got to watch you boys fuck in way too long, I need new images for my playback later.” This image of Ed right now, so delightfully fuckable, that was going straight in the memory book.

She sat up, wincing a little as she realized how uncomfortable the bench really was, and let Roy to his feet. She felt a little cold now, and truly naked without a warm body pressed to hers, but Roy crossed the tile and went straight into Ed’s arms like he belonged there. It caused her stomach to coil just a little bit - but they both broke off and looked at her as if they sensed it - and Ed’s eyes were just for her in that moment. (Maybe this could work, after all.)

(Maybe, just-)

* * *

 

There were no benches in the actual shower area. “Men,” Winry huffed at the row of showerheads lacking their dividers. “They expected their society to always be just men, it’s ridiculous how utterly backwards and chauvinistic-“

"Maybe they were just, juh-just forward thinking." Ed’s stance was spread, he was standing over her, she had seated herself against the wall, under the spray. From this angle, she could well watch as Roy pushed his fingers inside of Ed again. The water was warm above them, droplets sprayed off of Ed down to her, but his body blocked most of the stream. He had both his palms flat on the tile above her, he had been forbidden to touch himself.

"You are not," Winry kissed the inside of his thigh. "You are absolutely not allowed to come."

"Try and stop me," Ed grunted, shifting his heels out a little further. She couldn’t really see Roy from her position, but suddenly Ed’s little poof of a ponytail was gone, and lank hair, dark gold with water, spilled over his shoulder. "Hey," Ed said, tilting his head back.

Roy’s hand appeared around Ed’s side, ponytail holder in hand. “Not too tight,” he warned, and Winry grinned. Ed looked back at Roy, and down at Winry, completely confused - at least until Winry wrapped the band around his cock, once, twice - tight but not entirely painfully so. “Wh-what,” Ed gasped, and Roy rubbed his hips with both hands, that moment had crept up on him, distracted as he was with Winry’s hands on his cock.

Ed’s bright, pulsing cock - Winry ran her hands down it another time for good measure. Ed’s gritted teeth, he glared down at her - “Y’don’t want me to come and you touch me li-lu-” a sharp intake of breath, and his eyes closed. “God, ROY.”

It was a fantastic view. Winry spread her legs, rubbed her hand between them, and watched as Roy moved. She couldn’t see him, just his legs and his cock, sliding into Ed from behind. They didn’t have condoms - it was a great measure of trust between them at the moment, and Winry was going to damn sure remind Roy to rinse off before he attempted to put his cock near her again. 

The noise that Ed just made, so obscene, on the high edge of a whine - she tilted her head back and looked, his hands had curled into fists on the wall, gritting his teeth as Roy moved. “God, god Ed,” Roy was saying, his hands tight on Ed’s sides, voice a repetitive chant. 

It really didn’t take long, in the grand scheme of things. Roy got more frantic, more sharp - Ed’s noises had been completely incoherent for a while (how long had it been for him, just as long, it sounded), and then, running down his legs, Roy slipping out of him, the semen mixing with the clean water and running down the drain behind her. 

Ed sank to his knees slowly, hands slipping on the tile, moving from completely above her and allowing Winry to feel the shower on her head again. He was breathing hard but shallowly, and when she touched his face to have him look at her, she knew that some of those tracks down his cheeks were not made by the showerwater. “Ed,” she said softly, and her heart sang for him.

* * *

 

This was - this was really happening. Ed’s entire body thrummed, Roy’s cock - he had had Roy inside him, he hadn’t even dared to hope, dared to even think about that in weeks, months -  he felt like he was on fire. Like ever nerve in his body was alight, the water pattering down above his head was an orchestration of sensation, and he felt like he was drowning in it all. 

Winry had her hands on his face, she smelled really good - they hadn’t washed, she must naturally smell this good, how had he forgotten the way she smelled? - and Roy, Roy behind him, he tried to shift to look but her hands held him still. “Roy,” he managed, and caught the look in her eyes, felt desperately sorry for it but he still had to know. 

"I’m fine, Ed," Roy’s voice ragged and raw from behind him. "Just a little - I need a few moments to recover, that’s all." She ran her hand down his jaw to his throat and chest, and he knew she was making her way down to where that damned - whose idea was that, ROY - oh god he hurt, not in a bad way but he felt like he was going to explode as soon as it was removed. "Don’t," Ed said, his voice raw as her fingers brushed the tip. "You’ve got to - if you want me to, you can’t take it off-"

Her eyes widened at that, and he crawled forward. Could they, with her seated as she was? Probably not, the angle was all wrong. He ran his hands down her legs, then shifted himself from a crawl to a crouch, and then back to a seated position, legs spread, his ass gingerly touching the water-warmed floor. (Roy had, oh god he was so hard right now just the thought made him want to burst.)

She got the hint, thankfully, crawling up his body and lining them up. “You don’t know,” Winry said suddenly, paused. “I can’t - Ed, all I’ve thought-“

Crouched over him, her knees trembling. He placed his hands on her hips, gentle but firm, and urged her down. He knew that look, that sudden spark of uncertainty - she needed him to do it, she couldn’t do it herself, couldn’t initiate it. Winry let out a low, shaking moan as she slid down him that first time, settling down against him, her lips brushing that sensitive skin at the root of his cock. God, she took him in so easy, it was like coming home, familiar warmth and wet heat. 

He balanced back on one hand, the other looped ‘round her lower back and watched her face as she settled. He wasn’t unusually big, he knew - but he was a bit on the girthy side, remembered the first time she saw him, her eyes delightedly, her mouth a round ‘o’ - and it always took a minute. Mustang made the most obscene noises when he settled against him, Winry, Winry just closed her eyes and hummed.

Then she started to move.

His hips rose to meet her as she bore down, up as she came down, every time, the rhythm moving faster and faster until Ed’s entire ass came up off the floor. She was clinging tight to his shoulders, eyes still closed, concentrating solely on the feeling of him moving inside her. He heard the noise behind him as Roy, finally, moved - but Winry was totally beyond hearing, beyond anything. He loved watching her orgasm, the way her entire body moved with it, the way she didn’t have to fake it, her voice reverberating on the tile, he could bring her to it just with the right angle and the right pressure. 

God, he loved her - body slick and wet, his hands slide over her flesh as she came down on him and squeeze, hard. Jesus, where had she learned that - and the pressure was building, deep inside and yet he couldn’t, he wanted to but he couldn’t, god DAMMIT he was so hard- he sobbed against the skin of her chest, in the space between, he wanted to come so BADLY-

Winry wrapped her arms around her head, soothed him with her voice, gentle and as warm as the water above them. “Soon, soon, god Ed, please, just a little more, I want-” He couldn’t see, he felt her still - and the brush of Roy’s fingertips along his spine.

(She wants us both, Ed.)

He opened his eyes, slid back on the tile. Winry was still seated on him, Roy brushing his hand through her hair. He hadn’t quite recovered yet, his refractory period must have gotten longer, they would have to fuck that out of him plenty. “I want,” Winry was still saying, her eyes on Roy. Roy made soft, shushing noises, they would have been demeaning coming from anyone else.

"I know," he murmured, cupped her cheek. "You’re going to have to, if you want him to be able to finish inside you." 

Winry looked down at him, and Ed thought with a sudden terror - no condom.

They’d had a scare, once before - they’d been so careful, condoms every time, but now here he was buried to the hilt inside her, naked flesh to naked flesh and it was already too late - but to finish? Winry must have noted his blind terror, ran her hands over him, leaned forward (up, off him, he wanted to whine, no no come back down, don’t leave me naked-), and whispered in his ear. “I’m on birth control, now.”

Then she sat back, smacked his shoulder hard. “You better be clean, Elric, or else I’m going to removed it with an ice pick.” She glanced back at Roy, her expression lethal. “You too, Mustang.”

"Clean, completely," he raised his hands. Ed thought dazedly of the she-beast. 

(It wasn’t an exaggeration, the woman hadn’t been a woman at all, some sort of monster disguised as a woman. Roy had tried to play it off as a hunt, he was sure he would - but he was also certain he fucked her. He liked fuckig things, especially if those things were Ed.)

"Ice pick," Winry threatened, and Roy ran his fingers down her back. 

"Do you really think," he said, his voice as smooth as silk. "I would risk something as precious-"

"Yes," Ed said.

Roy glared at him, interrupted in his sex-talk. “Ed,” he said patiently.

"I want to come," Ed whined. "Get on with it."

Winry snickered, and Roy sighed patiently. “This,” he mourned. “I didn’t miss this portion of things, I would be a fool to miss this-“

"Oh hush," Winry said, her hand on his shoulder and encouraging him down. "You did miss this, all of it." Ed watched her kiss him, gold on black and wondered for a moment if that was what it looked like when he kissed Roy. Something to ponder on.

And then Winry lifted herself off of him entirely, fingers running down his length, wet with her. “God you are so hot,” Winry breathed into his chest, removing the band simply by feel. 

It was off, and his entire erection pulsed. He wanted to come, he knew it wouldn’t be long and he needed to be buried to the hilt inside someone (Winry), now. NOW.

"Just a moment," Winry said, finger on his lips, as she crouched over him. Roy’s hands were on her hips, and Ed growled, driven mad with possession. His. She was HIS - and Winry groaned happily as Roy prodded at her, gently, and then very slowly penetrated her.

"I want both of you," Winry said to Ed, her hands on his face still. Well, one hand, the other on his cock, his trembling, over-stimulated cock. He was going to lose it the second his head touched her lips, there was no stalling it - but then she was sliding down him again, slowly, making sure that Roy was moving with her. Once she settled against him Winry sighed, already blissed out.

"Jeez," Ed said, and looked at Roy. Roy was looking very intently, at him. Ed encircled Winry with one arm, hugging her close - then offered that same hand to Roy.

Roy loomed over them both. The angle was so awkward but he managed it - putting his hand over Ed’s on the warm tile. It was Roy who controlled this movement - slow movement, back and forth, Winry sliding up and down Ed’s erection with each firm, slow thrust of Roy’s. 

Ed couldn’t bear it, he wanted it faster, more stimulation - he wanted it OVER, god, he hadn’t yet - then Winry was bearing down on him, clamping down, holding him inside her and it was all over, just like that. Ed’s head buried in her neck, one hand holding her close as he trembled, hips shaking up into her. “Shh, shh-” Winry soothed him, feather-light kisses on his face, and Ed just sobbed out his orgasm, the water rinsing away the evidence left behind, even as Roy kept moving, kept moving over and over again until he too moaned his completion.

Winry was the only one of them left marginally coherent by her orgasm, she balanced between them, felt Roy go soft inside her, but Ed - Ed was still hard. She squeezed him and he moaned, his voice sharp against the tile. “F-fuck, Winry-“

She smoothed her hands across his chest and started to shift over him. If one orgasm brought him to tears, the second was going to send him screaming through the roof.

* * *

 

Al sat in the library alone, his dinner untouched in front of him as he concentrated very, very hard on ignoring the cacophony that echoed down the hallway while he researched soundproofing material on the internet. Oh boy, was he going to need THAT.


End file.
